How to Rope a Real Man

by Melissa Cutler

  She squared her shoulders, set her chin high, and stared Carson straight in the eye, confident and capable. “He’s four.”

  A ripple of confusion—or perhaps dawning awareness—passed through Matt, Vaughn, Rachel, and the diner patrons listening in. In Jenna’s periphery, she watched Matt’s focus toggle between Carson and Tommy, his face falling like he’d figured out the truth behind her lie.

  Jenna let the gawking stares roll off her like rain, but when her whip-smart son piped up to disagree, she shoved his ice-cream cone into his open mouth and marched him out of the café.

  God, she wished she had her car there instead of being at Matt’s mercy to get them home. She nearly chickened out from facing him by getting in Rachel’s truck, but if she did that, if she turned away from Matt now, he might never forgive her. At least if she and Tommy rode home with him, he might give her a chance to explain. Not that she had the luxury to care about salvaging their relationship now. Like an elephant matriarch, she had only one job and that was protecting her son at all costs.

  Thank goodness Matt hadn’t locked his car door. She didn’t raise her eyes once to check if anyone had followed them out of the café, but kept her attention solely on her son, strapping him into his booster seat, praying that Matt appeared before Carson did.

  Before she had Tommy’s door closed, Matt was opening his. She could tell by the set of his lips in a flat line that he was upset. He didn’t talk to her, just slid into the driver’s seat and turned the engine over.

  She took to her seat, keeping her face pointed straight ahead and her hands clasped in her lap to keep them from shaking too noticeably. She had no idea how to start a conversation with Matt, especially in front of Tommy, but it turned out not to be an issue because he never once looked at or spoke to her the entire drive to her cottage.

  The tension in the car, coupled with the huge dose of sugar and a late bedtime, must’ve been too much for Tommy because, despite the massive double-scoop ice cream he held, his mood plummeted. What started as babbling questions about why Jenna had gotten his age wrong rapidly devolved into a tantrum about how fast the ice cream was melting all over his hands and pants.

  Jenna passed back napkins from the stash in her purse and tried to console him that she wasn’t angry about his clothes getting messy because he’d be changing into his pajamas as soon as they got home, but all that did was turn his whining into out-and-out tears, complete with wailing. Matt had a death grip on the steering wheel and stayed silent, with splotchy red growing over the skin of his neck.

  She couldn’t be mad at Tommy for the tantrum. Her heart was breaking for the little guy. His life had to be so confusing to his young mind right now, with their imminent move to Santa Fe, starting kindergarten, and Jenna and Matt’s new relationship. She wished more than anything that she could make it all stop and give him the stability he needed and deserved, but there was only one way through the upheaval to get to their new, peaceful life in Santa Fe, and that was to put their heads down and charge through it.

  Matt pulled even with the walkway to Jenna’s front door and idled the car, his focus on the horizon.

  Over Tommy’s whining, she said, “Please don’t leave yet. Give me just a minute. Please.”

  His jaw rippled.

  She nodded, unlatched her belt, and climbed out, then took hold of Tommy’s ice cream-sticky hand and helped him hop out. “I’ll be right in, okay, buddy? You can sit at the kitchen table and finish your ice cream, then play with your toys for a few minutes before you need to brush your teeth. Sound good?”

  “All right.” Head down and sniffling, he dragged his feet, then tripped and fell flat on his face on the grass. His ice cream rolled away, ruined.

  Screaming and so mad that his face was bright red, he stayed facedown, kicking and screaming and pounding his hands on the ground. Jenna had known Matt for eight months, and every time Tommy had had rough patches, Matt had stepped in to help. Tommy looked up to him and listened to him so much better than he listened to Jenna. He was an expert at getting Tommy through his tantrums. Not tonight.

  She looked Matt’s way. His eyes were closed and he gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white.

  Jenna pushed a strand of hair out of her face and tried to ignore the tears of despair she felt coming on. Rather than trying to save her imploding love life, she had to deal with Tommy. She’d begged Matt to wait, but he hadn’t turned the SUV’s engine off. She half expected him to drive away at any moment, even though she recognized how insulting to his integrity it was to think that.

  She stood over Tommy, who was still crying and thrashing on the ground, and raised her face to the night sky. She loved being a mom more than anything and credited Tommy with saving her life—shocking her into adulthood—but she just needed a few minutes to catch her breath. She needed to figure out what to do about Carson and Matt and all the stupid, unfair turns her life had taken in the past week.

  Nausea roiled in her stomach and she knew an onslaught of crazy tears was coming soon if she didn’t calm down. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Z, Y, X, W, V, U, T, S—” A lump constricted her throat.

  “Arcuepee, Mommy.”

  She looked down at her son.

  His face was red and streaked with ice cream, dirt, grass, and tears, but at least he’d stopped crying. “You looked like you didn’t remember the next letter in your backward game and it’s arcuepee,” he said between crying hiccups.

  She dropped her knees next to him, a hand on his leg. “You’re right, buddy. R, Q, P. Thank you. Are you okay? Did you skin your knees or anything?”

  He rolled into a butterball and stuck his knee up. It was scraped, but not badly.

  “You want me to kiss it?”

  “Maybe later. Right now I just want a Band-Aid and a new ice cream. We still have chocolate fudge Popsicles in the freezer, don’t we?”

  “We do. Do you remember where we keep the Band-Aids?”

  “Uh, yeah. I’m not four, like you thought.”

  She fought to keep the sad smile off her face. “You’re right. You’re such a big boy. I made a mistake. Would you get yourself a bandage and an ice cream so I can talk to Matt alone?” She pulled out her phone and accessed his favorite game. “Here, for when you’re done with your ice cream.”

  He stood, then took the phone with a glance at Matt’s SUV. “I think he’s mad at us.”

  “Not you, sweetie. He’s mad at me. I messed up and I have to apologize.”

  “You mess up a lot, Mommy.”

  Sweet sundae, did she ever know it. She was doing the best she could as a mother. Falling short, but giving it her everything. Despite all her mistakes, despite everything that had gone wrong, Tommy was going to grow up to be a good, smart, kind person with a huge family of people who loved him. She took comfort in that, even if she’d never win a Mother of the Year award.

  She stood and wiped the grit off her knees. “Everybody messes up sometimes. That’s what saying sorry was invented for.”

  She kissed the top of his head and watched him walk through the front door. After a fortifying breath, she turned and marched to the SUV, then slid onto the passenger seat.

  She still had no idea what to say to Matt. Better to stick with the basics, like she’d told Tommy. “I’m sorry.”

  He swallowed. “Carson is Tommy’s father. That’s why you lied about Tommy’s age to him. Because you never told him he was a father and you were trying to lie your way out of telling him tonight.”

  So he had figured it out, and from the accusing tone with which he’d said it, he’d already made up his mind about what that truth said about Jenna.

  “Yes.”

  Matt shook his head and cursed under his breath. “You said Tommy’s father was out of the picture. You said he was a deadbeat dad.”

  “I never said that. You did.”

  “Yes, I did. And you didn’t correct me. That’s a lie of omission, Jenna. But still another l
ie in your long list of them. How do you live with yourself, lying to everyone like you have?”

  She poked her tongue against her cheek. He wasn’t giving her an inch. “Every lie I’ve told, I’ve had a reason for it.”

  “Oh, please. Give me a break. You robbed Carson of Tommy’s first five years. You robbed him of his chance to watch his son grow up.”

  She pressed her hands together and met Matt’s furious glare. “It’s a lot more complicated than that.” She’d tried to say it with a steady, confident voice, but the words had come out like a plea.

  “Do you have any idea what I’d give to father a child? I’ve tried bargaining with God. I’ve seen every male fertility specialist out there. I’ve done everything humanly possible to become a father and you . . . you robbed a man of fatherhood. Blatantly. Callously. I can’t think of a more despicable betrayal.”

  He started to tremble, as if his emotions were getting the better of him.

  Silent tears streamed over her cheeks as she stared out the window. She didn’t have the energy to fight with him or defend herself. There was nothing to say. He’d made up his mind. Besides, nothing mattered now except Tommy. Carson was going to figure out the truth, if someone in the diner hadn’t told him already. He was smart. He’d put two and two together. She probably only had a matter of minutes to pack a bag, get Tommy in the car, and flee.

  Matt was still ranting. “What is it—you’re a compulsive liar? Is that your M.O.? You haven’t told Rachel or Amy the truth about your school or new career or that you’re leaving town next week. You didn’t tell Carson he was a father. You lied to me about last Sunday night. What else haven’t you told me? How am I supposed to trust you?”

  “I don’t know, Matt. I guess you can’t.”

  He huffed. “You have a responsibility to let Carson be a part of his son’s life. He could sue you for full custody and he’d have a pretty airtight case. You understand that, right? You could lose Tommy over this. You have to start working to make this right, whatever it takes.”

  Her stomach heaved. She hadn’t thought about that angle before and it filled her with a fresh urgency to run. Through the kitchen window, she saw Tommy sitting at the table, the Popsicle held up to his mouth. She reopened the car door. “I’m sorry I hurt you. It wasn’t my intention. Please know that. I have to go take care of Tommy. Are you coming in?” She knew the answer would be no, but she wasn’t sure what else to say.

  “No. I can’t do this. I can’t be with someone who treats fatherhood like it’s expendable.”

  She figured that was coming, but it still brought fresh tears to her eyes. She sat half in and half out of the car, her hand on the door, and watched Tommy’s silhouette. All she’d wanted was to be a family with Matt and Tommy, and it stole her breath how bad the timing of Carson’s return had been. If only she’d had a few more months to build a stronger foundation with Matt, maybe they would’ve had a chance of weathering this storm.

  She’d give it one last try to explain. Maybe Matt was done with his tantrum and was finally ready to listen. “The situation with Carson is complicated. I’d like the chance to explain it to you.”

  “No, it’s not complicated. Carson deserves a chance to know his son, and I’m sure as hell not going to get in the middle of it. That wouldn’t be fair to Carson and it’d be too confusing for Tommy. Did you know he already asked me if I’d be his dad?”

  Jenna shoved aside the turbulent feelings that discovery evoked in her. She’d have to process that later, when the events of tonight weren’t so raw. “What makes you so sure Carson wants to be a dad to Tommy?”

  “Come on, Jenna. He’s not the deadbeat you led us all to believe. He at least deserves the chance to decide for himself what his role in Tommy’s life will be without you making that choice for him.”

  Stupid her for opening her mouth to reason with him. That was about as constructive as reasoning with Carson had been. Neither man was the least bit interested in hearing her side of the story. Both were self-pitying fools who only saw their own struggles reflected in her. But she couldn’t waste energy worrying about Matt’s feelings any more than she needed to worry about Carson’s. She had enough on her plate without being their scapegoat.

  She didn’t need to be judged like this. She’d trusted him with her true self, like she had with Carson. Neither of them had handled her trust with care. They threw her faults back in her face and saw despicableness instead of just a girl trying to get by the best way she knew how. Was she really so unlovable that even the people who claimed to care about her thought the worst about her on the turn of a dime?

  Feeling thin and brittle, she stood, shut the car door, and swiped at her tears before leaning in through the window. “It’s a good thing we’re breaking up because I can’t be with someone so judgmental that they drop me the first time they get a real good look at my flaws.” She braced her hands against the lip of the open window. “I’m sorry my scars are so much more repulsive than yours. You ought to take Carson out for a beer tonight. You two can commiserate about what a horrible person I am.”

  “You’re not a horrible person.”

  Gee, thanks. Numbly, she moved toward her front door. A little boy could only be left in the house alone for so long and, besides, she needed to kick her act into gear to get them packed and on the road before she risked Carson showing up.

  “Jenna . . .” Matt’s tone was gruff and demanding, not regretful.

  She had no intention of turning around. If he wanted to talk to her more, he could chase her into the house. She held her breath, every cell of her body praying for the sound of the car engine turning off, his door opening, and his footsteps on the walk. For him to fight for her.

  The only sound was his engine purring, then the wheels crunching over gravel as he turned his SUV around and drove away.

  Numbly, she watched the taillights of his SUV fade into the night, then roused herself with a sniff and a shake of her arms. She found Tommy on the floor of his bedroom playing with superhero action figures, his cheeks puffed and his brows furrowed as he made sound effects to add to the battle he was staging.

  “Hey, buddy. Thanks for playing so good while Matt and I talked.”

  “Where is he?”

  She stroked his hair. “He had to go home.”

  Tommy’s shoulders dropped. “I wanted him to sing me the cowboy song before bed.”

  She gave him a big mama-bear hug, holding on tight until he’d had enough and squirmed away from her. “Let’s get you in your jammies and ready for bed.”

  A good, honest mom would probably tell her child that they’d be leaving home that night, but Jenna couldn’t bring herself to. Because then he’d perk right up and either start whining and fussing or asking a million questions.

  It would be so much more efficient and easier on both of them if she waited for him to fall asleep, then carried him to the car. He was a deep sleeper and probably wouldn’t wake up until she’d gotten them wherever they ended up going. Plus, a silent, drama-free drive would help her settle her mind and think clearly about her next move. What was one more little lie on top of all the others she’d propagated?

  She laid Tommy’s pajamas on his bed and left him to dress himself. Impatient and twitchy with pent-up energy, she jammed her textbooks, notebooks, flashcards, and study material in her knapsack.

  The first thing she should do with the pay from her new job was get them both in therapy, especially if Carson threw Tommy’s world out of orbit by wanting to be a father to him. Hell, Jenna should’ve been in therapy her whole life, now that she thought about it. She always felt well adjusted and normal until she stopped to give it serious thought. Or until someone like Matt or Carson reminded her that she couldn’t escape the legacy left by the hurt, neglected child she’d been.

  She sucked it up good for Tommy and was damn proud of the mother she’d grown into, but someday, she wanted to be able to relate to other people in the easy, natural way everyone e
lse seemed to. She wanted to trust and be worthy of trust enough to build a life with a man. She didn’t want to be alone forever, which meant she needed to start fixing herself. Just as soon as she handled the situation with Carson and got her and Tommy settled in Santa Fe.

  She set the knapsack by the front door, then jogged to the bathroom and spread toothpaste on Tommy’s brush. She got him started with that, then dragged a suitcase from the bottom of the coat closet into the living room and overturned a basket of clean laundry into it.

  The door squeaked open. Jenna’s heart dropped to her knees for about the millionth time that night. In her haste, she’d forgotten to lock the door. Please don’t be Carson.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Only after Jenna composed her features did she turn to see who it was. Rachel. Jenna released a shaky exhale of relief.

  Rachel closed the door behind her, her eyes wide with concern. “What in the hell is going on?” She caught sight of the suitcase and her eyes got even bigger. She opened her mouth like she was going to give Jenna a piece of her mind.

  Jenna waved her hands in front of her and tipped her head in the direction of Tommy’s bedroom. “I’ll tell you everything, I swear. But not yet. I’ve got to get Tommy to sleep. It’s way past his bedtime.” Frightening, how easily the lies were rolling off her tongue now. In for a penny, in for a pound, she supposed. But it still freaked her out how unscrupulous she could be when her back was against the wall.

  Rachel gestured to the suitcase. “Where are you going?”

  Jenna had no idea. A motel in Albuquerque, Carrie’s apartment—anywhere but Catcher Creek. She dropped jackets onto the clothes in the suitcase, flipped the lid over them, and pressed her knees on it so she could zip it closed. “I don’t know yet. But we can’t stay here.”

  Rachel’s consternation morphed into concern. Jenna didn’t have time for concern. She had maybe twenty minutes until Carson showed up demanding answers or wreaking vengeance or both.